The Raven and The Barbarian
by LiterateGamer
Summary: First ever story, a "commission" by a lass on Discord, and the start of my "career". Officially defined as "a fight scene with sexual tension". Enjoy, and thank you for reading.


In the empty halls of the McCallen gymnasium, the sounds of battle could be discerned. A faint echo that reverberated through every part of the professional gym, closed to the outside world for an indefinite time.

And the reason for said echoing was rather... unorthodox. It wasn't some haunting spirit, no. Neither was it a trespasser, lurking about in the midst of the unoccupied establishment. No, none of that. None of those contrived, unnecessarily complicated reasons. No, the answer, was much, much simpler.

If one were to go further into the little gym, the sounds would become clearer. From the faint grunts and moans of what could be misinterpreted as naughty fun, to the grunts and moan that could only be interpreted as hurtful fun.

In the main room of this gym, there was a sparring section. Used often by the various martial-arts teachers whenever classes were in session, the rather spacious room was currently being held hostage by two forms.

One of them was the definition of elegance. With silky raven locks that fell down the form of perfectly formed shoulders, a sleek torso covered by a modest sports bra, encasing the rather modest breasts of its' user with well-observed results. Her skin was slightly tanned, a show of constant outdoor workouts, furthermore evidenced by the lines of her toned abdomen, or by the way her hips were so pronounced, even through the baggy dark sweatpants she wore. If one were to look at this being's face, they would be greeted with sleek, gentle features, topped by a small and well defined mouth and nose, and piercing sapphire orbs. Not too much muscle, not too much fat. Perfectly toned, perfectly elegant.

She flowed like silk, her bare feet sliding across the mat as she closed the distance between her opponent, her hands moving under the other's strikes, palms open for quick strikes against ribs and sides. Before she could be caught, she'd already stepped back, her stance at the ready, her legs relaxed and her arms held back, palms open and ready for any retaliation. She could not parry, or block this particular opponent, but she could deflect.

Her opponent? Fiery, curly locks cut fairly short, emerald eyes that could pierce Odin's eye, and features of strength and fury. Her arms, toned and muscled, clenched near her face and chest as green stared down blue, ready to deliver the next staggering blow. Her body, so different from her rival in so many ways: From the way her voluptuous cleavage showed prominently even through the tightly made confines of her own crimson getup, a tight sports shirt that, even when coupled with a bra of similar make, was not quite enough to stop her from bouncing -a detail that our Raven did not mind in the slightest-. Her legs were powerful, wide hips that came down to strong, dangerous legs capable of knocking the wind out of men heavier than both of them combined, all topped off with that adorable rosy tone to her cheeks, courtesy of her pale complexion.

And she moved viciously. Like a warrior proud of their homesake, her attacks were brutal and precise, blows that would easily pick off her opponent with a single strike. And that was the idea. For she knew that our Raven did not have the resistance needed to withstand such a blow. Her opponent was faster, more agile, but she had the advantage in sheer power.

But, at the same time, this was a game. A dance of seduction between two huntresses, a race to the line of victory. And victory in this particular scenario, was something quite enticing. A bet had been made, and both wolved were pining for that carnal reward.

Another stare-down, the two women circling each other, with eyes that noted their true intention. Each stood in their own fighting stance, with the Raven staring towards the Valkyrie's legs, her strongest point and a source of danger towards the lighter of the two women. The Valkyrie, on her side, was looking towards the gentle, sharp hands of her contrincant, her own advantage. If either were to win this game, it'd be through determination and skill, not through physical ability.

Another step forward, both of them dashing towards each other, hands raised to protect their heads as they launched their initial attack. The Valkyrie was the first to engage, a right hook that struck against crossed arms, the Raven initiating her own little move. She dashed towards the source of damage, letting the force of it spread through her arm rather than to the focused area of her neck. She bowed her head, her comparatively small arms gripping the other woman at the shoulder, before she spun, her back towards the Valkyrie's chest. She quickly struck her leg back, a blow to the shin as she put all her strength into her arms, a motion that lifted the other woman from her feet, and against the ground harshly.

The impact was quick, but Valkyrie was ready. She let herself fall, before spinning in place, her hand supporting her body as she launched a kick towards Raven's legs, falling the other girl in a similar manner, with the damage falling against the dark one's shoulder. They were both out of breath, yet, they could not stop.

The two quickly launched themselves against each other, with the faster Raven crashing against the Valkyrie's chest, sending them against the mat once more, with the latter on her back. Straddling her opponent's hips, she pressed her body down, quickly grabbing hold of those two powerful wrists, before slamming them against the mat.

They were both panting, looking at each other through half-closed eyes. Their bodies exuded warmth, and Raven could feel how Valkyrie's body heaved. Flushed, she looked down at the red-head, whose lips were turned in a sly smirk.

"So, you win?"

Raven leaned forward, catching her breath, closing her eyes.

Huge mistake.

Hands grasped unto her sides, a quick grab that made her eyes shoot open, before she was dragged down against the red-haired beauty. She got a good look at wonderful eyes, flames upon ovals that seemed to grasp at her as she spun, before she was brought back to our world with the dry smack against the insensitive heaps of plastic and foam. She felt her mouth curve, an open exclamation as air left lung with surprising speed, a panicked jolt of her arms towards her captor, now above her and ready to strike once more.

And strike she did. But not in the way one might expect. Rather than hit at her prey with the killing blow, she made a much more insidious play.

The warm heat of a person's essence hit her skin, further flushing the sensitive flesh, prime for whatever this she-wolf was preparing for it.

And then, she let out a gasp. A sudden outburst of sound that sent a rush of blood to her features, her body jolting upwards in reaction as she was marked.

Her captor chuckled, kissing over the red, inflamed skin of our Raven's neck, leaning up to meet shy eyes before a melodious tone rang from sultry lips.

"I win."

Averting gaze, bashful eyes.

"S-Shut the fuck up..."


End file.
